


Mean Son of a Bitch

by Dark_and_night



Category: House of Wax (2005)
Genre: Fights, Jealousy, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:08:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23274496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_and_night/pseuds/Dark_and_night
Summary: Bo is mean to you for no reason, and you're sick of it.
Relationships: Bo Sinclair/Reader
Kudos: 68





	Mean Son of a Bitch

“Hey!” You snapped.

Bo glared at you over the piece of bread he had stolen off your plate. “What?” He said through his chewing.

“That’s my damn bread. I’m obviously in the middle of making a sandwich!” You frowned. “That was the last of the bread.”

He grinned wickedly, giving you an exaggerated bow. “Sorry, your highness. Guess you’re shit out of luck.”

You pushed away the ingredients. “You did that on purpose, who the hell just eats bread raw?”

“Who the hell still eats tuna?” Bo crinkled his nose at your mix of tuna, chopped up pickles, and mayo that you were putting together for your sandwich. “It smells as bad as Lester and probably tastes worse than ‘em, too. Just eat your fish without the bread.”

“The bread is a crucial component to the tuna, the sweetness of the bread balances out the bitter tastes of the pickles and fish.” You wiped your hands on a rag, frowning deeply. “What were you, raised in a barn?”

Bo took a step toward you, smiling an evil smile. “Oh-hoh, you don’t want to know how I was raised.” He stepped closer again, backing you up into the counter. You stiffened in fear as he got his face close to yours. “Or maybe you’d like a taste of how I grew up, starting with how I spent suppertime?”

The image of Bo’s old highchair flashed in your mind, making you shrink back even more.

“Y-you know, I live here too. You don’t have to make every interaction with me a war.” You said, looking around for Vincent. He was nowhere to be seen.

Bo pulled back, shaking his head. “You’re only here as long as Vincent wants to get his dick wet. You got lucky that Lester took a shinin’ to you when you came into town, and even luckier that Vincent decided you were worth keeping. But I know what you are, and I know you don’t belong here.”

He started walking away, throwing his half-eaten bread on the table. 

No matter how scared you were, you were equally pissed.

“Hey, we’re not done here!” You ran after him, putting a hand on his chest and blocking his path. 

He glared down at you. “What?”

“First of all, Vincent and I aren’t sleeping together, he just lets me stay in his room since he’s never in there.” You spat. “Secondly, no, I don’t belong here. I’m lucky to be alive. But, it doesn’t have to suck. If you’d just be a little nicer to me, life would be a lot easier!”

Bo paused, taking in your words. A large shit-eating grin crossed his face. “Oh? You and Vincent aren’t having sex?”

“N-no.” You stammered. His grin got wider, and you realized your mistake. “Y-your brothers just like my company, Bo. They need people in their lives.”

“So, let me get this straight. When you first meet Lester you hold your breath and pretend he doesn’t stink as he drives you to town. You gush over his knife, and how him your pathetic little pocketknife in return. Talked about collecting animal skulls and weird shit like that. Well, now he’s real happy, you’re the first one who hasn’t treated him like the roadkill he gathers. Then you go through town, gushing over the wax figures, and when you meet Vincent you gush about how you loved his work before he even got the chance to think to kill you.” Bo lurched forward, making you fall back against the pool table. He planted his hands on either side of you, stopping you from moving. “You knew exactly what you needed to say to both of ‘em, but you didn’t know what to say to me. So now you got Vincent worshipping the ground you walk on without even getting a taste of you, and Lester coming into the house stinking like dead shit just to talk to you.”

“B-Bo, let me go.” You whispered.

He chuckled, moving closer until your noses were touching. His breath was hot against your face, and your breath hitched in your throat. He looked into your eyes, pulling his body closer to yours. His bangs tickled your face, your foreheads almost touching. 

He lowered his voice. “So, you give Lester a friend, and Vincent someone who can praise him all day and night just like Mama and Pa did, what will you give me, huh?”

“Bo.” You whispered. “Please…”

Bo’s gaze hovered on your lips for a moment more before he finally pulled back.

You shivered, crossing your arms and looking away. “Y-you’re a mean son of a bitch, Bo. I’ve never intentionally tried to hurt you.”

He stared at you a little longer, ignoring your words, before he shook his head. “Not even fuckin’. I can’t believe this.”

Bo stormed out, slamming the front door behind him, making you jump. You shuffled back to your food, but you weren’t in the mood to eat anymore. 

Bo plodded down the road, shoving a cigarette in his mouth and trying to light it. It wouldn’t light in the wind while he was moving, and he growled, stopping and blocking the flame with his hand. 

So you weren’t Vincent’s. Not quite, not in the way Bo thought. He didn’t know if he hated you more, or less for that.


End file.
